


different

by biellmanns (synapnea)



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: Christmas, Fluff, M/M, but then that didn't happen and it turned into just fluff, lol @ me, this was supposed to be smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 11:58:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3528566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/synapnea/pseuds/biellmanns
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a different kind of Christmas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	different

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ragtimedarling](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragtimedarling/gifts).



> Done for a drabble exchange I ran. Posting three months late because I'm terrible. Welp.

It was a different kind of Christmas.

Normally, Tatsuki would be holed up in his hotel room after practicing for his short program at Nationals, having one of his oft-scheduled dates with his university work or just staring idly out the window with a glass of wine in his hand. He would have had the television on to one of NHK’s Christmas specials, so he could at least pretend that he wasn’t sad and lonely and dejected on what was supposed to be a couples’ holiday. (And yet, he always turned down his coaching team’s offer to spend the night at the bar, so who was there to blame, really?)

But today, today was new. Today was strange. He was with Daisuke Takahashi, the man he’d been pining after for as long as he could remember. His idol, the god of figure skating in Japan, an Olympic bronze medalist, and way too much of a dork for Tatsuki to even comprehend. The Japanese media had always called Tatsuki weird, but boy, had they ever seen Daisuke behind closed doors? That man was just plain kooky.

It was barely eight in the morning when Tatsuki finally got himself out of bed, and Daisuke was already by their small, makeshift Christmas tree made of twigs and thrifted scrapbook paper. (Tatsuki wasn’t one for decoration, but he’d indulged Daisuke’s wishes for a tree and secretly enjoyed having it. It was a nice change from his normally threadbare apartment.)

In his fuzzy, footie pajamas covered in Santa hats, Daisuke was sitting on the carpet by the tree with his favorite hot chocolate, watching morning variety shows. Tatsuki couldn’t believe this man was reaching his thirties soon. The scene before him was more fitting of an eight-year-old.

"Ah, you’re finally up! Good morning, Tatsu-chan!" Daisuke gulped down more of his hot chocolate before motioning for Tatsuki to sit next to him on the ground. Tatsuki sighed, much rather preferring the couch, but he obliged and sat down next to Daisuke, legs sprawled out in front of him. It was a couples’ holiday, after all.

"You’re not going to greet me?" Daisuke asked with an edge of mockery in his voice. "Tatsu-chaaaan~ It’s Christmaaaas~"

Tatsuki sighed again, but he couldn’t help himself. Daisuke was a dork, but he was Tatsuki’s dork. Still, he made an effort to match Daisuke’s banter with his own. "Must you really draw out all your vowels like that? You are almost thirty, for god’s sake."

Daisuke pouted, a kind of pout Tatsuki would normally associate with a baby not getting their candy, or a puppy getting scolded.

"But I’m a cute almost thirty-year-old, right? Right?" Still pouting.

God damn it, he’s too cute. Tatsuki tried to keep his mouth from twitching, but ultimately failed. Ah, damn.

"Ha ha, I can see you smiling!" Daisuke puffed out his chest like a proud child who’d just gotten their first 100 on a test. "Come on, let it out!"

"Oh, fine! I give up, I give up." Tatsuki held up his hands in defeat, finally letting his suppressed giggle turn into a laugh—the realest, most uninhibited laugh he’d had in a while. He hadn’t meant to laugh so loudly, because eventually he got Daisuke laughing too—a deep, rumbling laughter so visceral and natural, it was almost like magic. A kind of laughter only this giant dork could produce. It felt good, to be laying on the floor, with Daisuke and his hot chocolate, laughing themselves silly on Christmas morning.

When they finally became quiet again, Tatsuki could hear the heavy breaths from his lover, a rhythmic up and down that could soothe him even more than the turning pages of his books, the lolling waves of the sea. He could stay here forever, just listening to Daisuke’s breathing. In this moment, he wished nothing more than just that.

"Hey, Tatsu-chan."

"Yes."

"I really love you, you know that?"

Tatsuki’s heart caught in his throat. They’d said "I love you" to each other before, weeks earlier on a gusty night in front of their favorite sweets shop. But this—this felt different. Tatsuki had never cared much for Christmas and its reputation as a lovers’ holiday, and yet he could feel the distinct, particular way Daisuke said it today. The way his voice became subtly raspy when he said love, and the slight edge of pain and longing as he ended the question.

"I—yeah."

"You don’t have to say it back, I just wanted to let you know again." Daisuke was soft and deliberate, the complete opposite of just a minute ago. It was still amazing to Tatsuki how many facets this man had, and how many he had yet to discover. "Since it’s Christmas, you know."

"…yeah."

They were silent once more, just two bodies on the floor, each breathing to his own rhythm. Tatsuki closed his eyes and reached for Daisuke’s hand, waiting for their heartbeats to become one.

"I love you too, Dai-chan. Thank you."

It was a different kind of Christmas. And Tatsuki wouldn’t have had it any other way.


End file.
